


Mowing Bites

by Juli



Series: Days of Summer [23]
Category: The Rundown (2003)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juli/pseuds/Juli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Travis didn’t answer his cell phone, Beck was actually happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mowing Bites

**Author's Note:**

> I'm counting down the days of summer with a ficlet a day during August.

The first time Travis didn’t answer his cell phone, Beck was actually happy about it. Travis was supposed to be mowing the lawn and had he answered the call, it would have probably meant that he was goofing off. No answer meant it was more likely that Travis was in the middle of the chore. With that in mind, Beck put his own phone away and went back grocery shopping.

In truth, it wasn’t fair to doubt Travis. The younger man had been incredibly supportive of Beck’s restaurant venture. Oh, he’d made fun of Beck every step of the way, but when push came to shove, Travis was there for him. Now that Beck’s restaurant, Option A, was a huge success, he was getting national attention. Penny O’Malley, a famous celebrity chef, wanted to talk to Beck about a joint venture in New York. They’d met the first time at Beck’s restaurant; their second meeting was to be at the house that Beck shared with Travis. Beck fussed with the menu and Travis had promised that he’d have the house itself in perfect condition.

By the second and third call, however, Beck was concerned. It wasn’t like him to call so often in the first place, but he’d wanted to ask Travis to check the cabinets to see if they already had some of the ingredients that he needed. In the end, Beck decided to buy the spices anyway. If they were duplicates, no doubt he’d use them eventually. 

Beck wasn’t even sure why he was worried, since he’d already admitted to himself that Travis wouldn’t let him down. Something just felt off, though, and Beck had learned to listen to his instincts. After all, he hadn’t been out of the retrieval business very long and it was the type of work that racked up a lot of enemies. Travis’ father also had enemies; Heaven help Billy if anyone came after Travis to get to his dad; Beck would take something like that out of Billy’s hide.

Arriving at home didn’t assuage Beck’s concerns. If anything, getting on the scene ramped them up a couple of notches because there was no Travis immediately to be found. As he pulled up, Beck realized that the yard was only half mowed and that the lawn mower was abandoned right in the middle of the grass. The garage door was wide open, adding to the overall impression of a sudden desertion.

“What the-. . . .” Beck parked the vehicle haphazardly in the garage, using none of his usual care making sure it was properly centered. As he got out of the SVU, Beck called for his lover. “Travis, you okay?”

There was no answer, so Beck left the SUV and headed towards the door leading inside. As he got closer, he saw smears of blood on the floor and bloody footprints leading into the house. Beck froze for a moment, and then charged towards the door. To his horror, the blood trail continued inside. “Travis! Answer me!”

“In here.”

The voice was weaker than Beck would have liked, but he was very relieved to get a reply. He traced the sound, and the blood, to the bathroom. When he got there, Beck stopped again, once more horrified. 

Travis was sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed. His reason for being there was obvious; he was clearly containing the blood that trickled from his foot. The young man was holding a towel to it, but the red stain was spreading quickly.

With a shadow of his normal smile, Travis greeted the older man. “The lawn mower bit me.”

“That’s some bite,” Beck struggled to stay calm. He was used to seeing blood, but not when it belonged to someone he loved. “You’re going to the ER.”

“It’s not that bad,” Travis tried to tell him, but his face was very pale. 

Beck got out a new towel and a role of medical tape they kept with the other supplies in the linen closet. “You have a choice, Travis. Option A, you let me take you to the ER. Option B, you let me take you to the ER.”

Travis was wise enough not to point out that the two options were the same. He remained quiet as Beck simply wrapped the clean towel around his foot and strapped it down with the tape. When Beck leaned down to pick him up, however, Travis finally protested.

“I can walk.”

“Sure you can,” Beck replied. He put an arm around Travis’ waist and hefted the young man upright. For a moment, Travis’ foot brushed against the floor, causing him to groan. “But I’m not going to let you.”

Travis wasn’t a small man, but he was smaller than Beck. Beck grunted as he picked Travis all the way up, but he managed. There were no more protests from Travis, which was worrisome. Instead, Travis just laid his head on Beck’s shoulder and allowed himself to be hauled around like a big bag of potatoes.

Getting Travis into the SUV was a bit of a problem, but nothing was wrong with Travis’ arms and he managed to get the back door open. Beck settled him across the back seat, making sure his foot stayed elevated.

“Beck.” Travis’ face was pinched, but he looked determined as he touched his lover’s arm. “I’m gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beck bent down and kissed Travis gently. A part of him realized he was overreacting to something that wasn’t a life threatening situation, but he couldn’t help himself. It had been Travis’ blood all over the floor and that had rattled Beck more than anything had in a long time.

The trip to the hospital took forever, even though Beck knew he was breaking speed limits all the way there. He almost panicked when he saw Travis’ head loll against the window, but made an effort to engage the wounded man into conversation.

“What happened?” Beck asked. 

Travis’ head jerked up at the question. “What? Oh, my foot. It was stupid.”

“Yeah,” Beck glanced in the rear view mirror. Travis was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “Tell me, Travis.”

“Not much to tell.” Travis blinked rapidly. “You know that hump in the middle of the front yard? I tripped and tried to steady myself on the mower. Foot ran right into the blade.”

“You were wearing shoes, right?” Beck asked, glancing at the rearview mirror again. “No more mowing in flip flops, right?”

Travis pouted. “I was wearing shoes – I’m not stupid.”

Beck kicked himself; Travis did not need to be nagged at the moment. “I know you’re not, Travis. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

When they passed the blue road sign that indicated that the hospital was just ahead, Beck could have cheered. “We’re almost there.”

“Great.” Travis didn’t sound very happy. “Stitches, my favorite.”

“It’s better than bleeding out,” Beck retorted. Travis had no comeback for that one.

When they reached the hospital, Beck pulled up to the ER and got out of the SUV. He helped Travis do the same and got him inside, where there were wheelchairs. It was hard to leave Travis, but the SUV couldn’t stay in the loading zone. He mumbled impatiently the whole time he parked it and jogged in to the hospital, but the time he got there, Travis was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m here with Travis Walker,” Beck told the personnel at the desk. “Foot injury.”

“Ah, yes, poor guy.” The nurse gave Beck a sympathetic look. “He said his partner was frantic and that I was to reassure you that cuts often look far worse than they actually are.”

“I’m familiar.” It was all Beck could do not to bite her head off. It wasn’t her fault that Travis had been injured. “Where can I find him.”

“Cubicle 6A.” She buzzed the security doors open for him. “On your left – and don’t forget to turn your cell phone off.”

Beck dug out his phone and obediently turned it off. He contemplated calling his dinner guest and canceling, but by then he was at Travis’ cubicle and completely forgot that he’d had plans for the night. Even as quickly as Beck had gotten the SUV parked and made it inside, a doctor and nurse had beaten him. The towels had been unwrapped from Travis’ foot and Beck winced when he saw how saturated they were. If he didn’t know they’d started out as a light tan, he would have sworn they were red.

“Beck.” Travis gave him a goofy smile. “What took you so long?”

The nurse gave Beck a grin. “We already gave him some pain relief.”

For the first time since that second unanswered phone call, Beck relaxed. “Thanks.” He went to stand by Travis, careful to keep out of the medical personnel’s way. 

“Mr. Walker did a real number on his foot.” The doctor explained. “As soon as we get it cleaned out, we’ll stitch it up and he can be on his way.”

“We are not pleased.” Travis waved his hand regally. “I hate stitches.”

“It’ll be over before you know it.” The nurse assured him. “You’ll be home sleeping it off in no time.”

Beck took Travis’ flailing hand and the nurse shot him a grateful look. Although Travis was adorable when doped up, Beck hated to see him that way because it was always a result of Travis having been injured. 

It turned out the grip came in handy. Travis was ticklish and after the painful cleaning of the wound was over, it had been hard to keep him from squirming as his foot was sewn up. Time seemed to stop while they were stuck in the cubicle. Although the doctor was compassionately quick with her work, it still seemed to take forever. Then after the stitches were complete, Beck had all sorts of forms to work through with the admission clerk – even though Travis wasn’t being admitted, they still needed insurance information.

All in all, it was well into evening when Beck finally got to take Travis home. Although Travis had been given some crutches to use, Beck still insisted on carrying him; Travis under the influence of painkillers was incredibly accident prone.

“Shit.” Beck had left the house so quickly that he hadn’t realized that the door had locked behind him. “Travis, can you get the keys out of my back pocket?”

 

“Oooh… I bet that’s not all I find back there, big boy.” Travis giggled as he reached around Beck’s body to find the keys. “I feel something hard. . . . are those your keys are you just happy to see me?

 

Beck rolled his eyes. Travis’ humor wasn’t what he’d call good under the best of circumstances, which these most definitely were not. “The keys, Travis.”

“Got ‘em.” Travis was almost cross-eyed as he held the keys up in front of his face. “What do you want me to do with ‘em?”

“Unlock the door.” Beck told himself to be patient; Travis couldn’t be blamed for his current state of loopiness.

“Okie dokie.” 

Amazingly, Travis found the right key. However, he had a hard time getting it into the key hole. Beck could see that the younger man’s hands were unsteady, probably due to the painkillers, but Travis had a different theory.

“Look, first the key goes partway in, then it comes out.” Travis smiled at his own realization. “In and then out. Beck, our key is having sex with the lock.”

“Gimme that,” Beck took the key from Travis. He braced the younger man between him and the wall. It was an awkward position, but he still managed to get it open in one try.

“Was it good for you, honey?” Travis called back at the door once they were inside.

“I think it’s time for you to get some sleep.” Beck went straight to the bed and laid Travis down on it. “You’ve had quite the adventure.”

“Hmmmm . . . .” Travis’ eyes were half-closed, he was that close to sleep, but he still managed to reach for Beck. “Thanks.”

Beck brushed the hair off of Travis’ forehead. “For what?”

“For staying.” Travis lost the giddiness he’d had since getting medicine in the ER. “For not leaving me to get stitched up all by myself.”

“I’d say it was my pleasure, but I really don’t like it when you get hurt.” Beck kissed Travis lightly. “Now get some rest, I’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

And a potential restaurant partner to appease; Beck had completely forgotten about O’Malley until they’d returned home.

“No, stay.” Travis pleaded. “All that other stuff will wait.”

Travis really was a smart guy and he was completely right. All the chores could wait, although Beck was really dreading cleaning up the blood. Still, Travis had been hurt and all Beck really wanted to do was hold the young man close.

“Okay, it’s like this.” Travis was nothing if not determined. “Option A, you stay in bed with me and we’re both happy. Option B is you stay in bed with me and we’re both happy.”

“And Option C?” Beck smiled.

“Come on, you know that one.” Travis giggled. “There is no Option C. There never is.”

Beck tilted his head to the side as he pretended to consider. In the end, it was an easy decision to make. “I think I’ll take Option A.”

Travis smiled as he snuggled close to Beck. “Good answer.”

And Beck had never been so happy that no Option C existed.

 

~the end~


End file.
